Trick'd
by Pickwick Scribbles
Summary: Crowley has certain conditions before he'll decide to help out the boys...
**A/N: This is my first written piece for fanfiction. I decided to keep it short- didn't have the dedication or time to commit to a full story just yet.**

 **Too long to be drabble and too short to be a true one-shot. Just some AU fun :)**

 ** _Reviews are appreciated._ **

**...**

* * *

"So you want back his soul?"

"Yes!" Dean glowered at Crowley, daring him to test his already limited patience.

"I did promise to give it back," came the coy reply. The demon paused for effect, forcing Dean to scowl.

"But?"

" _But_..." Crowley played along. "I do have one condition. And it's non-negotiable."

The hunter stayed silent and weighed the pros and cons of making a deal with The King of the Crossroads as he spelled out the details.

"Well? What's it going to be?"

Dean sized him up. Crowley raised his eyebrows in mock suspense.

"You know you can't get something for nothing."

Unfortunately, that was one thing Dean Winchester knew all too well.

* * *

Sam knocked tentatively on the cobweb covered, spider infested door. Just when he thought he couldn't hate Halloween anymore, Crowley had tipped the scales. He squeezed a fist tightly as he cast a sidelong glance at his brother. Dean would do anything if it meant saving a loved one, but Sam wasn't sure if he'd ever go _this_ far. He was contemplating giving his big brother what for when, after nerve-wracking silence, the decorated door creaked open on its hinges.

An orange blob of a man, who looked like he may have eaten one or two of his previous visitors, filled the frame. Upon seeing them, his face froze in trepidation, as if he were uncertain of their intentions.

Dean broke the silence; he held out his sack and growled, "Trick or treat."

The man eyed the jack o' lantern basket, and then the six foot tall squirrel and his russet sidekick. He scanned them up and down several times before his expression exploded with mirth. The man guffawed and cackled so abruptly that the hunters jumped in their faux fur suits.

"Sir?"

Sam's black nose twitched nervously as he adjusted the antlers atop his head. The response the man tried to give was lost in his laughter as his stomach did a jiggle to match every monstrous chortle. Dean's face flatlined before he turned tail and stormed back to the Impala, said tail grazing the concrete.

"That freakin' does it!" He ripped the flight goggles from his head in frustration. "Every single time!"

Sam galloped after his brother. "Remind me. Why are we doing this?"

"Bobby."

"Right. Too bad Bobby couldn't get out of this deal on his own," Sam said a little bitterly.

"Oh, he's going to. That bastard made a promise and he's going to keep it!"

He struggled for words, staring angrily at the goggles clutched in his hand. "...Stupid sonofabitch!"

In a rage, Dean threw his pail of treats at the foot of the Impala while Sam watched him incredulously from the passenger side, all the while the fat man's hoots and hollers echoing in the distance. They exchanged annoyed glances.

Dean took in a breath and tried to calm down, now regretting the wasted candy strewn across the asphalt. He was considering salvaging the only upside of this whole hellish experience when Sam twitched violently.

"You okay?" He stared, alarmed.

Sam's painted face scrunched uncomfortably. "This suit itches."

The flying squirrel rolled his eyes and climbed into the car, Sam fidgeting into the seat beside him.

"After this hell, Crowley's kidding himself if he thinks I'm not gonna take it outta his ass."

The car roared to life, the familiar sound of the engine calming Dean somewhat. His fuzzy fingers moved to wash out the memory of tonight with a little Led Zeppelin when –

"That's no way to talk about a friend."

Crowley was the picture of relaxed in the back seat. The two animals turned around, fixing him with peeved glares. Dean looked downright murderous.

"Trick or treat, boys."

"It's probably not the best idea, you being here," he warned.

"Calm down, Squirrel," Crowley chided. "There's no need for threats. Just wanted to see how you boys were dealing."

"Cut the crap," Dean barked. "You gonna give Bobby back his soul?"

"Of course...," the last word stretched in promise. "In fact, he's already 100% good as new."

"What?" Dean asked, hoping he'd heard wrong.

The moose's head tipped questioningly, his lips pressed together in anger as the hint of a smile graced Crowley's lips.

"Your surly scrap-metal hoarder has had his soul back for the last twenty-four hours."

This time, Sam was the one to lash out, jerking towards the demon in a grunt of rage.

"Smile."

The flash caught Sam off guard, and by the time the brothers finally realized what had happened, Crowley was long gone.

A string of curses flew out of Dean's mouth in quick succession as he thrashed in his seat, his face growing pink with the exertions.

"I swear to God! I'm gonna... I'm gonna...!" He punched the steering wheel, horn blaring. "I SWEAR!"

Sam noted his loss for words. "You have no idea what you're going to do to him, do you?"

His older brother stopped in his tracks, running his hand over his face and sighing in defeat when he felt the forgotten whiskers.

"No. But I do know this Sammy: we're goin' to invent new ways to make that smug bastard pay."

He rubbed the dashboard apologetically before putting his Baby into drive. Sam tossed the costume antlers in the backseat and pressed a large paw to the car stereo. The opening riffs of 'Whole Lotta Love' filled the air.

"...And we are getting that camera," Dean swore.

Sam scoffed, "That's not going to be easy."

"Is it ever?"

The Impala pulled out onto the stretch of suburban road, leaving the embarrassment of candy hunting behind Sam and Dean, as they dreamt of all the possible ways they could capture and kill a demon king.

* * *

 **I know it's not anywhere near Halloween, but I really couldn't resist...**  
 **  
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